


this whole damn city thinks it needs you.

by katarama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison Argent, Allison Lives, Angst, Fear of Death, Multi, Parental divorce, Past Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/pseuds/katarama
Summary: Lydia remembers what Beacon Hills was like before she entered Beacon Hills High.In hindsight, that whole period of her life seems painfully innocent.





	this whole damn city thinks it needs you.

Lydia remembers what Beacon Hills was like before she entered Beacon Hills High.  Before sophomore year, when Scott McCall, class reject, became a werewolf.

Sure, there was always some weird stuff that happened around Beacon Hills.  There were deaths or missing people that were never found, never explained.  She always figured that it was one of those smaller Northern California town things, like the urban legends bored townies told about creatures in the woods to scare the children.  She always rolled her eyes at it.  She remembers some of the bigger news events vaguely, remembers seeing pictures of the Hale fire on the front page of the unread local newspapers on her kitchen table.  She didn’t particularly care.  

Her parents’ divorced dragged on for years, and her family was in a constant state of falling apart.  She was determined to get ahead, to devour every scrap of information that could position her to be needed by her peers.  She wasn’t particularly hung up on what happened to the Hales beyond trying to figure out the hot gossip.

In hindsight, that whole period of her life seems painfully innocent, no matter how marred it all was my turbulent family circumstances.  She envies the normal people these days.  The people who get what she used to have.  The people who can put some distance between themselves and the escalating supernatural situation.  The people who can accept the mountain lion explanations, because they don’t have any real reason to believe anything different.  The people who don’t have any reason to want to be afraid.  The people who can count the death toll of people who they know, people they love, on less than one hand.

Allison has arrows spread across their dining room table and is inspecting them carefully, the Argent necklace tucked under her top, only visible in the links of the silver chain that nearly tangle in the wisps of hair at the nape of Allison’s neck.  Scott is waiting impatiently by the door, his tank top not warm enough for the fall weather, but displaying the McCall pack tattoo very clearly for anyone to see.

_ Painting a target on himself _ Lydia thinks to herself, her stomach churning.  She knows the plan for the day.  She trusts Allison’s arrows to fly true, but it doesn’t stop the unease in her gut, the anxiety that creeps in in situations she can’t control.

Sometimes, she hates this.  A lot of the time she hates this, actually.  No matter how smart she is, no matter how many dead bodies she can stumble upon, it doesn’t stop the feelings of powerlessness.  Lydia feels uniquely selfish in that, if she didn’t have to be involved in this, if it weren’t the lives of her and her loved ones, she would be okay with moving on.  If her ex hadn’t gotten a little too caught up with snooping around the burned-out Hale house, if Scott and Allison hadn’t looped her into this mess, she would be perfectly content to treat it as not her problem.

She would be content to keep Allison and Scott at home in her bed.  To go out to movies and kick Scott’s ass at bowling and to make out with Allison in the backseat of Scott’s car, where she knew he could hear and smell both of them.  She would be happy to have dinner time without stray weapons that make Scott’s nose itch sitting on the table.  She would be happy to get home from work and to always know that the people she loved were safe.  That they were safe then and would be safe the next day and would be safe the day after that.

But Scott and Allison are good people.  In ways that Beacon Hills doesn’t deserve.  In ways that Lydia doesn’t deserve.  She’s never met anyone so enduringly steadfast in their belief in trying to do good as Scott, or as brave in the face of pressure and grief as Allison.  She’s never met two people who had so deeply internalized the notions of responsibility: responsibility to their packs, to their families, to their hometowns.  To the strangers who didn’t know how much protection they received, who didn’t even know they had someone to thank.  Who didn’t even know that Allison and Scott were about to head out into the night and risk their lives to fight a threat that no one knew existed.

If Lydia were just a little bit more awful, she would cling.  Ask them if they were sure they needed to go.  Tell them how desperately she feared for them when they were out there fighting without her.  Tell them how much she needs them, how overwhelming her feelings are for them, how terrified she is of losing both of her dearest loved ones in one fell swoop.  Of losing the healthiest relationship she’s ever had because both of them were too good-hearted to let someone else save the day, for once.

“ _ Death doesn't happen to you Lydia, it happens to everyone around you _ ,” Stiles had told her once.  She didn’t entirely accept it, at the time.  Maybe didn’t want to, partly because of who the message was coming from.  

Lately it’s all she can think about.  Things are getting harder.  Allison and Scott are getting tired.  Everyone’s been run ragged, and Lydia is waiting for the smallest slip to bring everything crashing down.

Allison and Scott pack up and grab the keys.  Allison pockets her phone and promises updates.  Scott hugs Lydia tightly enough for Lydia to know that he’s smelling every ounce of anxiety and fear that’s pouring out of her body.  Scott’s phone goes off, a message from Derek, and he sheepishly tells her that that’s their cue.

“I love you,” Lydia says before she lets him go.  “I love you both.”

“We love you too,” Allison says, kissing her.  “We’ll be back safely tonight.”

Lydia wants to take her at her word.  But when they head out the door, she brews herself a pot of coffee and settles in for the long haul.

She wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](http://sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Prompt from my [M A N I A prompt list](http://sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com/post/169946499207/m-a-n-i-a-prompts).


End file.
